The Bard King (re-write)
by ImperatorAnonymous
Summary: (re-write) Of all the people he could have been born as in this god-forsaken world, it had to be the Silver Prick himself... Oh well, it could always be worse. After all, he was born as Rhaegar. All that's left, is surviving. (Rating could go up)
1. Chapter 1

_**Starfall, 276 AC**_

I know, I know, starting off here rather than at the actual beginning is an odd thing. However, before that point, even as a prince, my life was fairly boring. As it is now, I had been recently knighted and had managed to convince my father to let me do a long trip with my best friend.

Now, if you're really so interested, it began with an accident, I remember panic, tumbling down in a large horseless carriage, falling down a cliff... Then light, and I was being born. Now, let me tell you, that, is an awful experience... Being born I mean.

As for who I was born as.. Suffice to say that I was a slim young man with silver hair, purple eyes and an aptitude for music... Yes, Rhaegar fucking Targaryen -excuse my language- I've never quite liked him, but all things considered, it was a fairly good position to be born into.

I only wish it had not been in the middle of a massive inferno.

As it was, I was at that moment approaching Starfall with one Arthur Dayne... Believe it or not, he was a pretty decent guy, The guy was not yet the Sword of the Morning, he was not even Ser Arthur yet, but I had overheard that he was ready to stand the vigil and be anointed a Knight.

"Huh? Again deep in thought Rhaegar?" He asked with a teasing smirk. I rolled my eyes at that and shrugged

"Well, one of us has to do the thinking Arthur," I replied with a smirk of my own. We laughed for a few minutes. Then we came in sight of the castle.

Starfall was impressive, although not in the same way as the Red Keep, Harrenhall, Dragonstone or Casterly Rock were. If anything, Starfall seemed like a surprisingly standard medieval castle. It actually reminded me of the Aljafería in Zaragoza. It had that mix of a European (or Andal, I guess) style with those Moorish elements that I figured were fairly common in Dorne.

Now, speaking about friends. You might be wondering, what about Jon Connington? Well, I'll be honest... I can't stand the boy. Arthur is a pretty chill guy, who doesn't mind me being an absolute bookworm, Connington on the other hand... Yeah, I don't think I'll go near him. Besides, I don't particularly care about such things, but I honestly have no idea how is that the original Rhaegar did not have a clue about the fact that said boy was definitely attracted to him.

Then again, the original Rhaegar never struck me as a man with a mind for anything that was not the arcane crap he was into, and prophecy. I might be wrong, but that is the impression I got.

We were received at the entrance of the keep by the guards, and then by Arthur's father. Lord Ulrick Dayne was a tall broad man with a handsome face, black hair, and purple eyes. He smiled warmly at his son and bowed slightly to me.

"Your Grace, a friend of my son is always welcome in our household."

"Lord Dayne" I bowed out of respect, I was, after all, a guest, "It is a pleasure and an honor for me to meet you."

Having exchanged pleasantries and once I had been given bread and salt, we were taken into the castle proper. It was then that I saw her.

I had to admit that, for my mind, it was still a bit creepy. I mean, my body was seventeen or so, but my mind was approaching thirty... My body, however, did not seem to care, and I found myself cursing in my mind at the fact that my skin was so damn pale as I felt my cheeks heat up just a bit.

She had to be fourteen or fifteen, with long black hair and a still-developing figure that was already very attractive and would clearly mature into a drop-dead gorgeous woman... And then there were her eyes, of that same violet that was oddly common among the Daynes, but there was something else to them.

Of course, there was no other explanation, it was Ashara Dayne. And I, for once, could understand why the Quiet Wolf didn't even dare to talk to her.

Thankfully, before she could take notice of how awkward the situation must have been for me, Arthur got ahead and embraced her -in a display of pure sibling affection, not that... thing that passed as such in House Targaryen- She bowed gracefully, I bowed just a small bit, and soon enough, it was just Arthur and myself once more. I took a deep breath and when I looked at him, I saw a silly, teasing grin on his face.

"So?" He asked me simply, I looked at him, he held my gaze... and I eventually flinched first.

"Come on Rhaegar! We both know what you're thinking about!" He exclaimed and laughed loudly. I couldn't help but chuckle along.

"Thank the Seven that only my family is crazy enough to do full on incest." I muttered, then laughed

We were still laughing a few minutes later, when a servant came to inform us that there would be a small feast and our presence was wanted at the main hall


	2. Chapter 2

_**Starfall, 276 AC**_

Did I mention that Arthur had been summoned to be knighted by his father?

Yeah, we had no idea that it would happen. However, it seemed that there was this family tradition among House Dayne -or at least the main Starfall branch- The knighting of the sons and brothers of the Lord of Starfall, if there was no Sword of the Morning, would be made by their father. I still do not understand exactly how did they do so, but after some magical shenanigans, they were able to determine if the knight in question would be worthy of Dawn.

I suppose that the High Hermitage Daynes do not do this, or at least not unless there are no Starfall Daynes, otherwise, I'm sure that one Gerold Dayne would have made a try at that point... Now that I think about it, I think that the wife of Ser Samwell -the current master of High Hermitage- was pregnant. Perhaps it was with him.

Whatever the case, once morning was upon us, not only was Arthur officially a Knight now... He also carried Dawn.

Actually, Dawn definitely did not look like your average Longsword or Greatsword. If anything, the design reminded me of a Greek Sword, and more precisely, of a Bronze-Age Greek Sword. The blade had a rather simple shape and was pale like milkglass. It had no crossguard, instead, there was a horn-like handguard. Of course, given its age, it must have been made before there was steel working or a more modern style and shape of swords, therefore it looked archaic in a way that no other blade did.

I snapped out of my thoughts when Arthur spoke.

"I thought you'd be more surprised Rhaegar." Arthur was grinning from ear to ear, with Dawn in its scabbard, and a tabard bearing the colors of House Dayne. We shared a laugh as I was to break the fast with his family.

That actually went pretty well -even if there was not too much chatter- And the rest of the day was quite uneventful.

Then there was the feast.

Now, I had never been a party guy. Actually, I did not drink too much alcohol before... this... Not to mention the fact that I definitely did not like what those of my age group usually did for partying... Of course, I tended to dislike feasts for other reasons. However, I was thankful that this one was not really a big feast, and that there were relatively few nobles. Most of the people here were knights sworn to House Dayne. minor vassal lords, and Ser Samwell Dayne.

Perhaps the best way to describe this situation was like this: A somewhat self-conscious dragon prince, putting on his best smile and trying to small-talk his way out of the situation and towards a balcony. How was I supposed to know that this course of action would see me face to face with one Ashara Dayne?

I can't say I was complaining though.

"Prince Rhaegar" She greeted me with a bow and a smile. I smiled and bowed back, and managed to see Arthur smirking at us as he went on to talk to his distant cousins from High Hermitage...

"Ah, Lady Ashara," I greeted her, "I hope I am not interrupting anything." She gave me an amused look and offered to join me at a balcony... Admittedly, that had been my destination, still, I honestly did not know what to make of this.

"It is most impressive My Lady, Your home that is. And most aptly named." I commented, hoping to avoid things from growing more awkward than necessary. For some reason, an old memory stirred in my mind, a song...

Damned Silly Wizards, and damned Queen of Argyll...

Now, don't get me wrong, being born into a feudal era is honestly, crap. Even more so if you remember what life was like in the 21st century... But I do have to admit that it has some perks, especially if you are born to nobility. For one, you can actually see the stars up in the sky without going far from civilization. Why, they were visible from the balcony. The sight here was just amazing. The Summer Sea would blend into the horizon, framed by the mountains and the mouth of the Torrentine...

This does not mean that I did not miss my on-demand music, or that I am not pissed at the fact that I will never be able to see Sabaton live.

Oh well, we ought to work with what we have.

"I am afraid I do not understand what do you mean by aptly named." Said the young lady whose presence I had almost forgotten for a brief moment. As usual, startling me back to this reality.

Smiling and looking up I replied. "You have here a majestic sight. The Sky feels so close, almost as if you could reach up and pluck a Star down here like you would an apple from a tree."

She let out a soft laugh and nodded at that. "I thought you would say about our sigil, Your Grace. But I can see why would you say so. I grew up here, it is what I am used to, yet I had not seen it that way."

With a small chuckle and a nonchalant shrug, I could not help but reply, "I figured so, I mean, some find the Red Keep to be a dreadful intimidating place, others, to be an imposing symbol of Targaryen might... To me? It's just home"

"I have heard that you are good at singing and writing songs." She stated. I tried to zone out, looking at the horizon. However, it did not work.

"I do not think that the minstrels your father has here would like for me to try and take their place," I replied.

Perhaps the last reaction I had expected, was to cause her to giggle at it and sigh.

"It may be true, Your Grace," she said.

The rest of the feast passed rather quickly. And eventually, all save for Lord Ulrick and Arthur left the hall.

A servant led me to a room, and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit that pillow


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sunspear, early 277 AC_**

We did not remain for too long at Starfall -and as much as a part of me regretted it, I have to admit that it might have been for the better... I definitely did not want to pull a Duncan when the only possible other heir was a little baby- Since the overland route was not a good choice given that it was mostly desert, even if you traveled only overland until you reached the Greenblood.

Now, there was a network of oases, and caravans did move around... But we had no camels, and it was faster to go by sea, at least on the Dornish coast.

Thus, after a bit more than a week, we departed on a small ship towards Sunspear.

The sea travel was quiet, and remaining within sight of the Dornish coast around the Broken Arm was a good way to avoid encounters with pirates. Thus our arrival at Sunspear was fairly uneventful. We were caught by the new year on the ship though.

Having said that, it is important to note that Sunspear was a very hot place.

The man who met us at the docks was a Norvoshi called Areo... Yep, Areo Hotah, He was a massive man, taller than any man I'd seen -although perhaps not as tall as one Gregor Clegane- Also, he was not a black man, instead he had a light-tanned skin and black hair with a well-kept beard that was grey-ish. He carried a massive axe, a poleaxe that had to be six feet long at least.

He led us to the Old Palace, and although we were not going to stay more than a couple of days, we were received officially. The words exchanged were the usual pleasantries -as well as the assurance that we would not be abusing their hospitality- What was more impressive about them was the family itself.

The woman's name was Aliandra, Aliandra Nymeros-Martell. She was probably of age with the late Tytos Lannister, and still held herself in a very regal manner... Even more so than my father. By her side were her children.

Doran Martell was not too far from my father's age, he was also not yet the man shown in the books. He stood tall and cut a graceful figure. By his side stood the Norvoshi lady, one Mellario. She was almost as tall as him -and let me tell you, while nowhere near Areo Hotah, those two were on the tall side- It was also noticeable that she and the Princess Aliandra were not in the best of terms -even if they did not hate one another- I actually had a small idea as to why... An old comment made in passing by my Mother which I was sure she thought I had forgotten.

Then there were the younger siblings. Oberyn Martell, the youngest of the lot, was already a good looking boy, almost as tall as his brother -admittedly, I was even with them in height- And there was a small smirk on his face... I was definitely not sure about what to make of it. Then there was their sister.

Elia Martell, in a future that I was pretty sure that would not pass now -if anything due to butterfly effect at the very least- she would be my wife, which would end with her being left to the tender mercies of the Mountain... The young woman -she had to be around twenty- was tall, with a kind smile, large expressive black eyes, and a very slim figure... For some reason her face reminded me of someone else, however, I could not put a name to that person, someone I had seen -most likely not in the flesh- in my previous life. Perhaps an actress.

Before anything else let me tell you one thing. The first moment when I realized that this was not the show universe, was when I saw Tywin Lannister. The man definitely did not resemble Charles Dance, other than in the dignified air he carried.

With that out of the way, let me tell you something else. It did not take a genius to see that Princess Aliandra was already working towards seeing me married to her daughter. I can't say I would be bothered by it.

"I admit that the letter of your arrival took us by surprise, Your Grace." The Princess spoke once the pleasantries were exchanged. "It is also strange, but definitely not unwelcome to see young Arthur here..." She stopped for a moment before noticing that he carried a different sword with a very distinctive hilt and guard, "Or should I say Ser Arthur now?"

"Your Highness," I replied, "I thank you for receiving us at such short notice, and, admittedly, this is the fastest route back to King's Landing." I did not really need to explain to her that Arthur had just made his mind regarding what would he do... he was planning on joining the Kingsguard as soon as there was an opening. And for that, he intended to remain at King's Landing until then. I was fairly sure that she was aware of that.

That afternoon I would dine with Prince Doran and his wife. And as if I needed any more confirmation that this was the book world, I learned that Mellario had recently given birth to a girl whom they named Arianne... Yep, that Arianne Martell. Although surely her personality would be pretty unrecognizable with all that would change... right?

Arthur and I were not planning to remain in Sunspear for too long, but around noon of the following day, a raven arrived at Sunspear from King's Landing -because of course, the Hand of the King knew that we would be here by now-.

We -or rather I- were needed at the Red Keep as soon as possible.

Of course, the King had just decided to go himself to Duskendale.


	4. Chapter 4

_**King's Landing, 277 AC**_

All thoughts of marriage ceased when I heard of the situation...

Of course, father, being that fountain of wisdom, rode off to Duskendale alone -save for a couple of knights and Ser Gwayne Gaunt- All of his escorts were killed, and he was left in the dungeons of Duskendale. Of course, this would be a good chance to make sure that I could end his madness permanently... A part of me was even tempted to just do it. However, when you spend this long looking at a woman in the eye and calling her mother... I knew that she still believed that he was not truly insane, that he could and would be once more the man he had been when I was but a child...

I knew better, but I just did not dare tell her. I could not break her heart like that.

Arriving at King's Landing was a surprisingly quiet experience. We were hurried from the docks towards the Red Keep. And on the Iron Throne sat the Hand.

Now, the Iron Throne was neither the monstrosity of the books nor the unimpressive metal chair of the show. It was somewhere in the middle, and definitely impressive... Also impressive in a manner, was the man sitting upon it.

I must insist that Tywin Lannister did NOT look like Charles Dance. He was still a handsome man with a stern face and who carried himself in a more dignified way than the King, some would even say a regal manner... We exchanged pleasantries and salutations, and then I spoke.

"Lord Hand, what is being done to bring His Grace back?"

Perhaps Lord Lannister expected me to let him be there rotting for a year and succumbing further and further into insanity. Or even to have me let him be killed, and then use the chance to marry me to his daughter. My plans, however, did not include such a thing.

"There are troops from the Royal Household already forming siege lines around the town... However, Lord Darklyn has been adamant that any attempt to storm the walls will result in His Grace's..." He did not finish the phrase, letting it hang in the air above us like a sword of Damocles.

"I see... I suppose that Duskendale will soon be under a complete blockade."

Lannister eyed me oddly for a moment, then he nodded. "It will be soon."

With that, we were done, and I left the Throne Room.

The Royal Apartments were rather spacious. Which made them feel even more empty consiering that three out of four living Targaryens were present. There were a few servants here and there, but that was about it.

When I entered the room, my brother Viserys was asleep on a crib. Our mother looked at me. I did not think twice before going on and hugging her. Now, Queen Rhaella Targaryen was one of those women who, in different circumstances, would definitely be remembered in history. Not only she was quite a beauty and was aging quite gracefully. She was smart, more so than my father. She was kind, caring and dutiful. And she was also quite resilient.

Were it not for the fact that she was married to a man that, as a wife, didn't particularly care for her -as siblings, it was a different story, but even that aspect of their relationship was slowly breaking down- She might have had a chance of keeping my Father's youthful energy from being so utterly spent in a thousand follies in his early reign.

Sighing softly, she hugged me back, and after a few seconds, we both let go.

"How have you been?" I finally asked, She let out a soft sigh and looked out of the window.

"I guess I have been well. How are you Rhaegar?" Of course, even when you happen to be a man grown sent into a baby's body, your Mother tends to realize when you're upset.

"Worried about Father," I said, not really lying actually. He was a surprisingly decent father to me. Although I knew for a fact that the Aerys that I called Father was either dying in Duskendale or already dead. Not that I could say that. Even while Father's madness was beginning to show, Mother would still hope that he could be cured.

Before she could reply, Viserys woke up and began crying.

It was hard to believe that the little bundle of crying and sleeping would become such a shadow of a snake instead of a Dragon... That would not come to pass if I had my way.


	5. Chapter 5

I had made a point to not seem too involved in politics so far. After all, the last thing I needed was to have either my Father thinking that I was after him or Lord Lannister considering me a threat.

Of course, the recent events meant that such a strategy would no longer work. This left me to think. The Old Lion was dangerous, he was also someone I did not truly trust. Better to let Father ruin things with him and then, once I succeed him, mend them to an extent.

I was thinking of such matters as I waited. For I had demanded that the Small Council convened the following morning. From what I recalled, we were without a Master of Whisperers just yet, and I already had a couple of persons in mind for such a position. Of course, for that, I needed to either get Father out of Duskendale in a way that he will actually listen to me or to accelerate the succession.

As you can imagine, neither of such ideas was too appealing.

It is so easy, when reading it on a screen or on paper, to look at the Mad King and think "Oh, I'd just have left him to rot in Duskendale, or better yet, provoked Lord Darklyn to off him" But one thing is to think of it when the person in question is just a background character in a work of fiction -if he can even be called that- and a very different thing was, having had the chance to live in said world, to actually do so. Even more so when, for all purposes and intents, he had been the man one called father... And a fairly good one to boot! -admittedly, my standards for parentage were not the better before that I mean, almost anything will beat an absent father in that regard- Besides, I would be unable to look at my mother -because she had ceased to just be "Queen Rhaella" so long ago- in the eyes if I were to allow such a thing to happen.

Damn emotions.

I was taken out of my thoughts by the Master of Ships, who was actually arriving quite early.

"Lord Velaryon" I greeted him, and Lucerys Velaryon bowed. He was a tall and rather handsome man whose hair was turning from silver to a more ashen gray. He greeted me back with a bow and took his seat.

He was also a staunch loyalist, which was something I hoped to use in my favor.

Lords Chelsted and Staunton, the Masters of Coin and Laws, as well as Lord Lannister, soon arrived, while Ser Gerold Hightower had arrived with me. Pycelle was the last one to arrive. The old man was a surprisingly skilled player of the game -if one with too little ambition of his own, thankfully- and was already a man that disgusted me... Finding some way to get rid of him was high in my list of priorities, especially since he was on Lannister's side.

Once we were all seated, I formally started the meeting and asked... "Do we have any way to know what goes on within Duskendale other than Lord Darklyn himself?"

At the lack of a response, I understood that it was not the case. Thus I made a mental note to get a Master of Whispers as soon as I could.

"Well... What is the status of the siege then? I suppose that Lord Darklyn is still a long way from even thinking around surrender."

Lord Lannister was the man to reply, his green eyes looking at me almost as you'd look at a boss that you simply would not fully respect.

"He has threatened to have the King killed should we assault the walls."

I nodded, making a mental note of thinking on how to solve this sooner. Even if Aerys' fall into insanity could be delayed for a few months, that should be enough to leave me in a better situation...

"Has the City been subject to a naval blockade?" I asked. I knew that Lord Velaryon was... reluctant to support any action led by Lannister. And while his house was no longer as rich or powerful as it had once been, the name and prestige of it still amounted to influence in the Crownlands.

"The Royal Fleet," Started Lord Lucerys, "is taking positions to ensure that not a single morsel of food reaches them by sea." Of course it was not, but he would give the order that afternoon. He just could not say so outright.

"Good," I replied, "allow a few smugglers here and there though. Some of them could prove useful, for the right price." I had a plan slowly forming, I just needed the right man for it.

After discussing a few other related matters, the meeting was adjourned, and I decided to head for the training yards.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Note: I decided to jump a bit forward, some scenes before this chapter were, well not quite fitting with what I have in mind anymore. Enjoy!**_

For a month I had planned and set out to try and keep some sort of balance at court. After all, even if I could not afford to make an enemy of Tywin Lannister, it was clear enough that he was not to be trusted, and keeping him from complete power was necessary for my plans... After all, even if I somehow managed to keep my Father from throwing the realm into rebellion -because I cannot bring myself to off him or let him die in that dark cell- letting Lannister too close was inviting disaster... Either due to his ambition, or due to his children.

So for a month, I planned. It was a fairly decent idea even. Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur, and myself -of course, having cut short and dyed my hair black, so I could pass for a sellsword born in Dragonstone, where purple eyes were not all that uncommon- would sneak into Duskendale by the docks, we would come in with one of the smugglers, make our way to the keep, and use the cover of night to get the King out, hopefully managing to achieve what Barristan had done in canon without any of us dying.

That being said, things needed to be set up. And in the meantime, I figured that there was another problem that should have been dealt with.

You see, the whole matter with the Kingswood Brotherhood was just the boiling point of a series of problems dating all the way back to the reign of Aegon V. While I won't deny that he did a lot of good things -or at least tried, which is more than what I can say about his son Jaehaerys- during his reign, bandits started flocking to the Kingswood. Of course, that was in the last few years of his reign, when he was desperate for anything that would give him an edge over the Lords... Of course, had he actually had steel in his spine he would have stopped Jaehaerys and Shaera from forcing my parents into that marriage, and undone the damage they did by getting some proper marriage alliances. Sadly, that was not the case, but I'm getting off-topic.

By this point, the situation was not yet critical, but that was fast approaching. The local peasants found themselves oppressed by the rolling back of the reforms -and since the reforms of Aegon V were only felt in the Royal Demesne, their rolling back was only felt there as well- and as Banditry grew in the area, they began to protect the bandits from retribution. My father, and to a lesser extent Lord Lannister were both ignoring the issue, always underestimating the smallfolk... In canon that had not truly backfired, but the potential was there.

Thankfully, Lord Lannister had decided to oversee the siege directly, and Lord Velaryon was overseeing the blockade by sea. This meant that it was safe enough for me to leave the capital...

Not to mention, that this small trip kept me from trying to act on my urges to get rid of the Small Council... with extreme prejudice, collateral damage, and fire.

We passed through villages, I held a sort of mini-court with the villagers, we paid for what we consumed and after a week, the locals were actively helping us in rooting out the bandits.

Of course, a part of the reason why I was doing this, was to avoid the matter of Jaime being fast-tracked into the Kingsguard after this. But no one needed to know that.

That particular day had been very fruitful. We had captured an insane man after they tried to ambush us, and we were well aware that Simon Toyne was on the run. A week more, and we would be ready.

We had just set up camp when a messenger came and informed me of the most recent happenings... To say that I was seeing red, would be an understatement!

"Rhaegar?" It was Arthur. He was fairly worried, and how could he not be? I was pretty much cursing, at Darklyn, at Lannister, and at Father.

"Some imbecile attempted to rush the walls of Duskendale... Now Lord Darklyn is threatening to have Father killed if Lord Lannister does not give him the writ for a City Charter."

Arthur looked at me in a mixture of shock and confusion. Angrily I served myself a cup of wine and sat down.

"Rhaegar... get some sleep, I'll give word that we will return to the capital and then you can deal with this."

I took a deep breath, not quite calming myself, but at least cooling my anger.

"Aye, I'll sleep, maybe I won't even do something I will end up regretting." I managed to reply.

Hopefully, I'd get to the Capital before things escalated further.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Yes, I am removing focus from the Ashara subplot, mostly because as I re-read the original, I felt it a bit rushed. For now, enjoy a step more to ending the Duskendale matter_

King's Landing was a den of vipers, the most wretched hive of scum and villainy west of Old Valyria. It was also my home.

There were very few people I trusted in this city. There was Ser Barristan -and I had to wonder when did Butterfly effect start to alter things, as I had no memory of canon Rhaegar being a squire for him at any point-, there was my mother, Arthur, and maybe Prince Lewyn... And that was about it! None of the Small Council members were particularly reliable -especially Lannister- much less the rest of court.

I had been giving thought to the lack of a Master of Whisperers. Suffice to say that the first options that had come to mind were... not optimal. Either due to their youth or the fact that they were unavailable. However, Duskendale was occupying most of my mind as of late.

I simply could not allow this to drag on. Now, technically, it was Lannister who called the shots here... That being said, if I came up with a plan to get my father out of that damned keep, he could not afford to publically oppose it -at least not without presenting his own alternative- I also needed to act fast.

With such an idea in mind, I called for Lord Velaryon. Since a discreet rescue operation was now pretty much an impossible matter, we would have to do this the old-fashioned way.

"My Prince." Lucerys Velaryon greeted me. I motioned for him to sit -we were on my father's solar- and he did so.

"Lord Velaryon... If I were to ensure that the Stormlanders add their ships and men to your forces, would we be able to take Duskendale from the port? If I recall correctly, the Dun Fort is much closer to the shore than to the land walls, and what few ships Lord Darklyn can muster are either sunk or stuck in port."

He seemed to weigh the options. Still not committing to this solution, he asked, "When?"

"When is the soonest we could do so? You must be aware that the main objectives would be to take the Dun Fort, rescue my father, and capture Lord Darklyn and as much of his family as possible..."

"I see... " I could almost see gears turning in his head, if Duskendale were to fall to a sea-based foe, it would be a gain in prestige for him, and a loss for Lannister... Of course, the Old Lion was not one to let go of a grudge, but there was little -and this was not part of it- to truly worsen their relationship. "My Prince, if we were to give the order to prepare a landing, with the Narrow Sea forces we could take the ports and push towards the Dun Fort within a fortnight."

I looked at him. Of course, such speed would be nice... On the other hand, it had the risk of it being too hasty...

"And if we were to make some extra preparations? Perhaps add some extra troops in case we find the port with a larger garrison than expected..."

Velaryon looked at me and gave a small -almost approving- nod. Then he replied, "in that case, slightly over a fortnight, unless you wish to call for Lord Baratheon and some of the men of the Baratheon Household. Then it would be around a moon, depending on how long will it take to arrive and be properly organized for a landing..."

"I understand," I told him, I was also weighing options. Duskendale was nothing to scoff at -even if it was not the Red Keep or one of the more impressive castles- There was also the matter of time. At the moment, the men of Lord Darklyn must have been paying more attention to the armies on land. After all, they had just tried to force their way in. According to Lord Velaryon himself -and he would say that it was according to a couple of smugglers in his payroll- the port was not fully defended due to this. I did not trust that information entirely, but there were ways to corroborate, or at least to have an extra source or two. Sadly, there was no Master of Whisperers, but thankfully for us, All we needed was someone who knew someone in Flea Bottom...

I'm not going to lie, if that second someone happens to be named Davos, I would not be at all upset.

"Very well, Lord Velaryon, I want you to make the preparations. I intend to resolve a couple of matters in the meantime, then I shall join you for the landing."

He seemed slightly confused, but nodded, he bowed and once he had stood up and said his farewell, he left. Clearly satisfied about this. After all, it all ended revolving around court politics and factions anyway.

By that point, I only hoped that this turned alright... or that he died in a way that I could not be blamed for it. Either solution worked.


	8. Chapter 8

_Next up: The Hammer falls on House Darklyn_

_Blackwater Bay_

Lord Baratheon had been attending Council meetings for some weeks when we left for Lannisport. Following the tourney, however, he had returned to Storm's End for some time... Now he was back at King's Landing.

A Lot of things can be said of Steffon Baratheon, my father's cousin was a kind man with a warm smile ready for those he cared for, and a will made of iron. I suppose that Lord Steffon possessed the best traits of his two sons.

Yes, I say two, because Renly has not been born yet.

Robert was already at the Eyrie, and Stannis remained with his mother in Storm's End. Steffon, alongside a small group of ships of his household, was with us in this endeavor... After all, it can be said that Baratheons tend to be made for War.

"Prince Rhaegar" He greeted me when I boarded his ship. He actually had a warm smile on his face, and that was enough to put me at ease. Say what you will about the Baratheons, they tend to keep their word... Thankfully I had no intention of turning that into a weapon to be used against me or my house.

"Ah, Lord Baratheon" I greeted with a small bow, "I am glad to count with you for this matter. I suppose that Lord Velaryon will arrive shortly."

There was no love lost between Steffon and Lucerys Velaryon, but they did not hate one another either. So the meeting was short, civil, and with both Lords mostly in agreement regarding the plan. It was shortly before sunset when we were done. With that planned, we all retreated to sleep. After all, we would be landing shortly after dawn.

I vaguely recalled that Father may or may not have named Steffon as his Master of Whispers... The Baratheons are warriors, and although Sun-Tzu is right in that Warfare is based in deception, that is entirely different from court intrigue. It is one thing to deceive an enemy commander and detect his own tricks, and a much more difficult thing at times, is to know when behind a smile there is a dagger, or a poisoned one... And the latter were not in Lord Baratheon's nature.

_

That night, my mind drifted on to the world of dreams. I had never been a dreamer in my old life, actually, it was pretty strange for me to have a dream that I would not forget within fifteen or so minutes of waking up.

That night, however, I had one such dream.

I was riding, riding to battle. By my side was a large man who had a cloak of black and gold on his armour, wielding a warhammer, as well as what could be called a phalanx of spears glistening in the sun, with the sun and spear in their shields. Banners of trouts, lions, wolves, seahorses and many others were fluttering in the wind... What unsettled me was the enemy.

The fight was in a sunny place, too sunny to be the Others coming south at last. The enemy flew scarlet banners, as well as orange and yellow banners with no symbols upon them. Fiery red cloaks and shields, screams in tongues from lands as far away as Mereen, we were outnumbered, and badly.

I could now see more properly the place, we were in a beach, on the midst of summer, the enemy was coming off of boats, and their fleet was huge, easily as large as Nymeria's Rhoynar fleet. But no women or children were here, only warriors. To our back, there were hills and a castle atop them. I unsheathed a sword, of the dark Valyrian Steel, and looked at the men that rode by me. Not only was Baratheon there, Arthur was here, Stark -Brandon Stark- and finally, Jon Connington.

I woke up as we charged them, never to know the result of this battle.

_

Shortly before dawn, I went to the deck. Getting on my armour and picking up a sword, I began walking to the boats. The one saving grace of all of this was that they had been forced to strip down the defenses at their harbor to reinforce the walls.

The bugle sounded, and a hundred rowboats touched land, knights and warriors came down and cut down the unsuspecting guards. I was there, and felt it like a haze. Kill or be killed, parry, sneak the blade in a weak spot of an armor, evade, parry and repeat. In the confusion, It took me a few seconds to notice that one of the men I had slain so unceremoniously wore a richer armour and had the arms of House Darklyn on his shield.

As the voice spread that Lord Denys Darklyn laid dead, his forces began surrendering, and we made our way to the Dun Fort.

In the fort, some of the defenders still resisted, but they were overwhelmed fairly easily. Few amongst our men died, and many men surrendered. As the soldiers secured the castle -and I gave orders that Lady Serala was to be brought alive to me- I ran to the dungeons, praying that Father's Sanity was not yet irreparably broken. 

After killing a couple of guards who had no idea of what was going on, I reached his cell. the training yards.


	9. Chapter 9

_Duskendale_

The sight that greeted me upon reaching the cell was a sorry one. Father had his hair long, as was his beard. His fingernails were long and he seemed much older than he really was. He did not seem to notice when I opened the cell and raged at me once he did... At least until he saw the tabard with the colors of House Targaryen. I removed my helmet slowly, trying to not startle him, and looked at him.

"Father," I greeted him. He stared at me as if I'd grown a second head. Then he spoke.

"For a moment I thought... that you were planning to keep me here..." He said. I sighed and kept walking, helping him along as we left the cell.

"We were cautious when we thought it was a good idea... Once we all realized that it was no longer an option, I chose to get this over with." I replied as he silently allowed me to lead him towards the great hall.

"I want House Darklyn extinguished," He said darkly -pardon my pun-, "This city will be razed to the ground and its people put to the sword."

He said this once I had gotten him to a seat, in the room, Ser Barristan was present, alongside Lord Baratheon and Lord Lannister. Both lords looked at my Father. Lannister had his emotionless look on his face while Lord Baratheon was quite obviously horrified. I chose to intervene.

"Father, Lord Darklyn is dead, and from what we've gathered, this whole business was his wife's idea... On the other hand, this is the first time since the days of The Conqueror that House Darklyn dares to oppose us, Would your rule not be more secure if you showed mercy without sacrificing justice?"

The tension was palpable in the air. I was waiting. I knew that Lord Lannister approved of Father's idea, even if he did not voice it yet. Lord Baratheon still would not speak... Finally, the Old Lion spoke.

"Your Grace, " And gone was the warmth that both men showed to each other when they were younger and I was but a child. "While Prince Rhaegar has proven to be smart, he is also naïve if he thinks that any measure other than eliminating the Darklyns will be a proper show of the consequences that defying your rule brings about." I could see in his expressionless face a slight sign of victory, it showed in his eyes... Silently I thanked all gods I knew about his words. In hindsight, he should have given some thought to this.

"Out!" he screamed. "All of you! Out!" And so the four of us left the hall, worried and waiting.

A few minutes later, Father had decided to burn Lady Serala, and execute all adult Darklyns. Lord Denys' son, a babe named Steffon, would be a hostage, while the son of Ser Jon  
Hollard, one Rolland -who was but five years old- was to serve as my page, eventually a squire, but a hostage nonetheless.

I let out a breath that I did not know I was holding. Father was mad, despite the shorter time that the Defiance lasted, he was still the same madman he became afterward... But perhaps there was still hope.

The trip out of Duskendale was not as complicated as I had feared. Lord Baratheon got us an enclosed carriage, and I managed to keep Father from actually issuing orders to the army. Oh, sure, there was some looting -you can never stop it fully in a medieval army- but it was not as bad as I had feared. We reached the docks fairly quickly, and Father embarked on a Velaryon ship with little fanfare. Usually, he would have demanded more, but he was too weary and tired to do so at that point.

Thus we set sail for King's Landing. That trip was fairly quiet, thankfully.


	10. Chapter 10

_King's Landing, 277 After Conquest_

The first few days after our return to King's Landing were quiet, perhaps a bit too much for my liking. I re-settled into my routine of being endlessly teased by Arthur about his sister, of burying myself on books and swords, and took up a habit to talk to Lord Baratheon. After all, we are cousins, and he will most likely be in King's Landing for quite a while, plus, it might also smooth things out whenever I met Robert.

However, the small council meetings -which I convinced Father of letting me join- were even more tense than usual, on more than one occasion did Father outright claim that Lord Lannister was planning to take over by keeping him in Duskendale and manipulate me into marrying his daughter... Hm, would it be too much of a demented action to ban the girl from the city? probably, which did not stop me from entertaining the idea... that reminded me that I needed to keep a close watch on her and her friends, if the whole incident with the Maegi and the odd prophecy could still be avoided, it ought to... if only to make sure she has a chance at being slightly less insufferable for the poor fool that will end up marrying that girl...

In the meantime, I made a decision... I knew that Rhaegar would try to remove the King from power... no, that course of action would not work, especially with a man so sunken in paranoia -admittedly, there was still more of the man I called Father left than in canon at this point, so I guess that was a win-... No, I needed to co-opt him and the council...  
Better to slowly and surely sideline him while letting him believe to have power until he dies...

Who am I kidding, this will most likely blow up on my face -it happens to be THIS world, not one where good guys with good plans tend to win- But it is still worth trying.

Then, Father called the Old Lion to his solar.

I chose to stay as far away from Father's solar as I could. With all that had been happening in the last few days, I was pretty sure that they would come to blows... Hopefully, this would mean that Tywin would leave the Small Council before Cersei and Jaime did something dumb like getting the latter to join the Kingsguard. If that was the case, all that would be left was finding a way to dispose of Pycelle. Not only did he creep me out, he was a Lannister man through and through.

After spending some time in the yard, I returned to my room and took quill and parchment. After all, I still had a letter to write... No, not a letter to Ashara. I know you'd like to hear that that matter was dealt with swiftly, but that was not the case.

We needed a Master of Whispers, we also needed to throw a bone to the North. And one certain Lord Lamprey turned out to be quite the trickster in this regard. All I had to do, was write to him, write to Lord Stark, and convince Father...

I should have guessed that it would not be that simple, but alas, I am getting ahead of myself.

I had managed to finish the letters when Arthur came in. -He had been sworn as a Kingsguard shortly after we arrived at King's Landing, and Father kept him around when talking with Tywin- He was clearly annoyed by what had been happening.

"How bad did it go?" I asked almost offhandedly, neither of us in the mood for the endless teasing that had taken place since our return from Duskendale.

With a grunt he sat down nearby and helped himself to some of the wine I had nearby -Father would be mad if he saw that, but he was not around and Arthur had become like a brother to me in all these years- before speaking.

"Lord Lannister finally resigned, although the King threatened to not accept his resignation."

I sighed at that, of course, leave it to Father to turn a potential gain into a loss.

"I see... I suppose that if it comes to it, Lord Baratheon could be the new Hand."

Arthur nodded and I could not help but chuckle slightly. Then I spoke.

"I guess I'll have to convince him to accept then... I have nothing against Lord Lannister," I lied, "but I do think it is high time the court settled down with less drama than this... I mean, I know intrigue is a vital part of any court, but things are getting ridiculous."

With that we changed topics, and both of us calmer, meant that Arthur was soon back to teasing me about Ashara...

Those Daynes might just be the death of me, I swear.

Oh well, at least they are not the Starks. As much as I intend to throw them a bone or two to keep them loyal, I do not intend to get involved in _that _mess, unlike the original Rhaegar...


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's note: And now, a Dream Sequence_

_Unknown location_

I woke up, rather sore. The bedroom was different, the bed was different... they were neither the bedroom and bed I had been occupying for the last years, nor were they the ones I could vaguely recall from a life so different as to make it unimaginable.

A servant brought water, bowed and left. And I saw my reflection on it, startling me.

It was not the face I had seen for seventeen years. Instead, it had tanned skin, short black hair and dark eyes.

One could almost say that the face staring back at me from the water, was Dornish or Rhoynar, but I recognized it too well to think so.

Still confused by this ordeal, I got dressed -and I was still in Westeros- Noticing that my skin was indeed of that tone.

"This must be a dream," I told myself as I walked out, seeing a courtyard, on it was a young man, with silver hair that fell to his shoulders. He looked at me, and I recognized him, he bore the face I had grown used to. But I knew it was not me.

"I suppose this is either some sort of hallucination... otherwise, I'll have to assume some odd magic that not even you should know," I said calmly, there was a tree, neither shade of the evening nor one of the northern weirwood trees. Only a regular tree, with regular wood and regular sap.

He looked at me, and what seemed to be the canon version of Rhaegar fucking Targaryen let out a small sigh before answering "Then I am just as clueless as you are..."

"Any idea of what is this place?" I asked, leaning on the tree as I looked at the courtyard, it was definitely not the Red Keep

"I have none... I suppose you already know me." He told me, He had an air of solemn sadness to him... I couldn't help but wonder if I carried that same air to myself.

"A bit, you could say... I can only hope this is some sort of inter-universe communication, not even you deserve being a prisoner in your own mind since birth." Have I mentioned that I never really liked Rhaegar before all this ordeal? Now, I don't think he was a rapist in canon, but he still felt too shortsighted considering that he should have known of the temper and character of both Brandon Stark and Robert Baratheon... anyway, where was I? oh yes.

"So you have no idea of what is going on then... And here I thought that you were the expert in magic and that kind of crap." I deadpanned, watching him sit beneath the largest of the trees in the garden. I sat nearby and noticed two instruments, a lyre and a guitar -the latter looked surprisingly modern- "Well, what's the last thing you remember then?"

He stared at me for a few moments, then laughed slightly. There was something in those purple eyes, something truly unsettling.

"You could pass for a sibling to Elia..." He sighed at that and then he replied, "The Trident... I suppose that I do not need to say more."

I nearly panicked for a moment? was I dead now? Had it all been for naught? Figuring that if I was, panicking would not change anything I waited for him to move. He sighed and looked at me, he was definitely more melancholic than I expected. And probably a bit saner...

"I see..." I managed to say after a second or two of awkwardness. "Do you at least regret the whole mess you caused? or you're not even aware of how badly things will go because of that little obsession you had? God, I don't know if you were mad or just foolish enough to think that the cryptic words of a woods' witch would be a shield against the consequences of your actions."

"I suppose that I ought to have taken a path more similar to yours... That being said, I think I should remind you of one thing that your people are oddly fond of saying..." That piqued my interest, did this dead Rhaegar know about my origins? how? Or he was most likely a hallucination. Most likely I took a nasty fall or something like that...

"Beware of the Butterflies, because the Dragon still must have three heads..."

I nearly facepalmed and looked at him. "With all due respect Targaryen," And there was a venom in my voice that even surprised me "Had you waited just a bit more, you would have noted that maybe the Three Heads did not need be born to you... Now, if you excuse me, I think I have matters to attend to."

With that, I stood up, and the world faded to black.


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Note: No, the narrator is not fully reliable._

That specific morning had been fairly pleasant all things considered. Father, while mad, seemed to still be able to see the wisdom of things such as not burning people, taking baths, or letting his hair and beard be groomed -he had taken to keep a short beard- or his fingernails to be trimmed. Which was definitely an improvement over canon. Not to mention that all of his paranoia was related to Lord Lannister. Thankfully the Old Lion was on his way to Casterly Rock. Now all that was needed was a way to court the Starks that did not involve me marrying Lyanna Stark -who, if I may add, was still a fair bit too young for my taste-

Under such circumstances, I was fairly sure that I had a good plan. From what I remembered, Lord Manderly was surprisingly good at plotting behind everyone's back, even tricking the Boltons and Freys into complacency while running a search for a Stark so they could turn on them... And so long as the Starks were loyal to the throne, Manderly was fairly reliable.

Of course, fucking Murphy had to intervene. Things had been going my way -or fairly close to it- for too long I suppose. As the sun approached its highest point in the heavens, I walked upon the last person I wanted to see. Lord Varys himself, in all his fat eunuch glory, was before me, escorted by two guards -not Kingsguard, just regular guards because, surprise, House Targaryen did have a very small household guard that bolstered the numbers of the Kingsguard and guarded those who were not deemed worthy of a White Cloak-

The damn eunuch bowed, and his perfumed smell was almost enough to hide the fact that there was something rotten about him. The scent of rosewater and lavender that seemed just artificial enough to bring back memories of a past life...

"Your Grace," He bowed, "I am Varys, at your service, His Grace the King saw fit to..."

I interrupted him, doing so in the least rude manner I could do before adding. "I heard that Father had decided on a Master of Whispers. I suppose we will be seeing one another frequently then, Lord Varys."

I left with that, it took all of my self-control to not just kill the bastard then and there.

I have to admit, I wish I had just killed him.

I made my way back to the training yards. Suffice to say, I already had enough problems, with all and the need to get rid of Pycelle, and stopping Father from doing something dumb such as sending Lord Baratheon to get me a foreign wife. And now I also had to worry about Varys.

Now, before coming here, I did not truly believe that theory about Aegon being a Blackfyre and the whole Varys shenanigans it involved. However, even if it was not true, trusting the man who was clearly a disloyal snake was... Well, stupid was an understatement.

With that in mind, I headed back to the yard, I needed to hit something...

"You do know that your father is thinking of finding a foreign bride... do you not Rhaegar?" Asked my mother, she looked at me and I could not help but sigh.

"Gods, Grandfather really screwed us up with his obsessions..." I reply somewhat annoyed. "Leaving that aside, what would that achieve? There's no family that is dominant enough in either of the Free Cities to gain us anything after all."

"And you might have someone in mind..." Mother told me, half-teasing as I managed to contain an annoyed groan.

"Who? I am definitely not planning to marry Lord Lannister's daughter, Lord Arryn has no daughters, neither does Lord Velaryon if Valyrian blood is so important, which leaves us with... "

"Lord Tyrell's daughters," Mother stated, of course, Luthor Tyrell was still alive, "There are also the daughters of Lord Tully, as well as Princess Elia, and Lord Stark's daughter..."

I sighed again, standing to leave. There were a couple more options, but neither were optimal. As much as I hated it, I could not hope to ignore the fact that I would need a marriage that isolated Lannister, or at least limited his capabilities to form a coalition thanks to the fact that Father had already alienated him...

"I... I will think about it." I told my mother before leaving. God did I need a drink at that time.


End file.
